


Statistical Impossibility

by egocentrifuge



Series: Another We (RandL OC Fics) [3]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, collection of drabbles, rohn - Freeform, sue me i love this shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 23:45:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16842841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egocentrifuge/pseuds/egocentrifuge
Summary: That's how my daddy taught me... two dogs.Really? Two dogs--what?





	Statistical Impossibility

**Author's Note:**

> did you know i love rabbit lightning? did you know I love knotting? abo is a mere parenthetical compared to that.
> 
> (half) posted on my tumblr of the same username, but with the current purge i'm going back and saving all my faves here. if you have notifications enabled, now might be the time to... disable that, as there's going to be quite a few things you probably already read/unfinished fragments put here. thank you all for your patience, I love you, and feedback is always appreciated <3

Redd finds out about mating when he’s down with a fever and his daddy sticks him out in the yard with Missy and Spot and tells him not to come inside ‘til he’s learnt. Redd’s not real sure what he’s supposed to be learning, but he’s never been real smart, not according to his daddy, so he pets Missy until she whines and starts licking herself, then tries to pet Spot instead. Spot doesn’t much like that, though, damn near bites Redd’s hand when he tries, so Redd goes back to sitting on the back step and picking at a stick with his pocketknife until Missy’s whine turns into a howl.

Redd learns, then, what his daddy’d wanted him to. Watches the coupling with his brows wrinkled under the sunglasses Lohn’d swiped from the corner store for him, wishes he had more hair to hide behind. His palms are sweating more'n usual when he lets himself back inside and out again through the front door, breaks out into a run.

He’s felt too warm since he woke up. Sweaty, achey, restless without knowing what he was looking for. Redd’s daddy calls him slow, but he’s quick enough now–-taller'n faster than any kid his age, slippery enough that he’s shaken all the voices that echoed after him by the time he makes it to the pasture.

Some of the heat in Redd’s cheeks fades when he hears Lohn singing to the herd, pools in other places instead; Redd twitches his nose, trying to smell Lohn through the scent of grass and cows and everything that comes with it, but it’s no good, Lohn’s downwind. 

He spots Lohn just as Lohn smells him, watches Lohn’s fingers falter on his whittling.

“Redd?” he calls. There’s something to his voice–-something that reminds Redd of Spot, of the way he’d bared his teeth and snarled.

“Yeah,” Redd answers, and there’s something to his voice, too–-something like Missy. Something like a whine.

Lohn’s boots throw up dirt as he stands, but neither of them move past that-–Lohn staring at Redd, nostrils flaring, and Redd feeling his legs start to shake for more'n one reason.

Redd’s always liked Lohn. He’s loud, he’s cocky, he’s broad and strong and everything an alpha’s supposed to be. Not like-–not like Redd. Taller'n most alphas their age but twitchy, afraid. Too weak, too soft, too–-

“Rabbit?” Lohn says, more softly. Redd shivers. The spring air feels so cold against his overwarm skin, and Lohn’s voice is deep and rough like it got when he’d gone toe to toe with John Carson for Redd, for _Rabbit–-_

“I need,” Redd starts. His voice cracks as his knees give out and like lightning Lohn is there. 

\------------------------------------

They don't lie to each other. It's part of their pact, a mutual decision; Redd's always had trouble telling if someone were lying, and Lohn can't always read Redd's moods. They've been tied at the hip since before they were even bonded--there ain't room in that kind of relationship for keeping things to yourself.

That's why, when Redd blinks down at Lohn where he's astride him, Lohn's skinny wrists trapped between Redd's hands and the dirt--when Redd says _you lost on purpose,_ Lohn doesn't say _I didn't._

What he says, face flaming but eyes steady on Redd's, is _wanted you to win._

It don't make sense, not from an alpha, even if that alpha is Redd's. Contests of strength should trigger every instinct, and Redd's been tussling with Lohn long enough to know how weak Lohn is to competition. There ain't anyone Lohn wouldn't throw himself at in the name of good fight, even if he knew he were going to lose. And apparently, hell, the losing don't bother him.

Or, shit, was losing the point?

"You wanted me to win," Redd repeats, rolling the words around in his mouth, seeing how they taste. Lohn's face is still that pretty pink. He hasn't tried to wiggle away, hasn't pushed back against Redd at all--just laid there for him, scuffed and sweaty in the dirt, scent coming off of him like roadkill. There's the sharp tang of adrenaline, of nerves, what's always reminded Redd of why he can't stand yogurt. But underneath it there's still Lohn, hay and tobacco and sun-warmed skin, and beneath that--

Redd leans down to press his nose against Lohn's neck, get a better whiff. He hears Lohn's little gasp same time as he gets a clue as to why that might be--

Lohn's turned on, clear as day.

It's reflex, habit, to nip at Lohn's neck, almost just in acknowledgement that Redd's found him out, but they've never found themselves in this position before. Lohn's unprepared for the bite, meaning Redd's unprepared for Lohn to surge against him, meaning Redd locks down his muscles to keep Lohn where he is, and--

"You wanted to be beaten," Redd amends, not a question, because Lohn's eyes are huge and dark and he's half-hard where Redd's still got him pinned.

Lohn answers anyways, because of their pact--a short, strangled, _yes._

Redd takes his time thinking through what this means, rolling the possibilities over in his head before he picks one to suggest. He knows Lohn'll tell him flat out if he asks, but there's something sweet about making Lohn wait for Redd to make up his mind. Especially now, when Lohn's cock is twitching in his jeans, when soft little noises slip from his mouth each time Redd shifts his weight. 

Finally, Redd decides, licks his lips. "What would've you done if I'd've been an alpha like everyone said I'd be?"

Lohn says Redd ain't got a knack for talking dirty, but the moan Lohn lets out in answer is downright filthy. Redd feels himself heat up in response, his palms and--other parts starting to get slick. The immediate instinct is to roll off of Lohn and keep on rolling 'til his belly's on the ground and Lohn can peel of Redd's jeans, do something about it, but just like he'd done with the question, Redd makes himself wait.

It takes a long while for Lohn to make it past his own instincts, but then Redd's rewarded with the column of Lohn's throat as he tilts his chin up, bares the skin to Redd in a way Redd's only ever seen omegas do. It takes a beat for Redd to think to lean down to claim it, a stretch of seconds where Lohn's goozle bobs like he's trying to make a sound his body weren't built to. 

As Redd works a bruise into Lohn's skin Lohn's words finally burst free, the answer to the question of why he'd let Redd win, why he'd wanted to be beaten. 

"Want you to--to fuck me, shit," Lohn gasps around the pain Redd's learned he likes, adding a desperate _Rabbit!_ when Redd gets a hint of iron on his tongue. 

"Think you can take it?" Redd asks. It's an honest question, what with how they're built, but Lohn moans again, resettles his legs around Redd's hips until he's pressing up against what Lohn wants through two layers of denim. Redd ain't sure it's supposed to be as hot as it is, but he swears he can feel Lohn's arousal here the same as he knows his own is burning between his legs. 

"Redd," Lohn says, voice broken with a purr he ain't meant to make, and Redd hooks his hand down the back of Lohn's jeans to grab his ass the way he loves himself. Though Redd ain't never done it himself, that ain't about to stop him; he lowers his mouth to kiss Lohn breathless again.

"I got you," Redd says, when they part. And he means it.


End file.
